Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

I woke up the next morning with a slight headache, and groaned when I realized it was only nine o’clock. Jordan was still sleeping soundly beside me, and after about twenty minutes of laying there without even becoming dozy I slipped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I quietly did up our dishes from last night, and put the empty wine bottle in his little recycling bin, before wiping off the table and the counters. I heard movement coming from the bedroom, and started a pot of coffee; I knew nothing helped Jordan’s hangovers better than a cup of coffee and an Advil.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen, his sleep pants hanging low on his hips as he stretched his arms and back.

“Couldn’t sleep. How are you feeling?” I asked as I wrapped my arms around him. He chuckled before kissing me.

“Probably worse than you are – your hangovers are never that bad,” he decided, making me laugh before I kissed him again.

“I’m not feeling too bad,” I allowed, and he grinned before resting his chin on top of my head. We stood there like that until the coffee maker told us it was finished, and Jordan reached over to pour himself a cup while I decided to make breakfast.

“What are you doing?” he asked a moment later, eyeing the concoction of eggs, milk, and vanilla in the bowl as I searched for cinnamon in his cupboard.

“Making breakfast,” I told him, smirking as I found a never-opened container of cinnamon.

“What the hell kind of omelet is that?” he asked, and this time I laughed out loud.

“It’s not an omelet – I’m making French Toast,” I informed him, and he looked sheepish.

“Oh, okay,”

I made the French Toast and then we sat down to eat it, both of us too tired for much conversation. Jordan offered to do the dishes, and then we curled up on the couch for a few minutes to watch some TV before showering and getting ready for the day.

We spent the day out on the water; we took the boat out into the middle of the lake and then went swimming, had a picnic lunch out on the dock and then swam some more before taking a short nap before dinner.

“So, what do we want to eat for supper?” I asked, and he just shrugged before looking in the fridge to see what we had for options.

“Hmm… I could make macaroni salad… and…” I looked under his arm and then Jordan jumped up.

“We can roast hot dogs!” he turned, looking like an excited five year old. I laughed, and he picked me up bridal style, causing my laughter to get even more intense.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” he urged, and I nodded.

“Okay, okay; do you have marshmallows?” I asked, and he put a finger to his lips.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone, but I keep a bag hidden with a couple chocolate bars and some graham crackers,” he told me, and again I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I responded, and then started making macaroni salad. Once it was finished we took it outside and started a fire, and then began roasting our hot dogs. I lost track of how many of them Jordan actually ate, but it had to be close to half of the package, as well as macaroni salad, before we pulled out the stuff for S’mores.

“Best supper ever,” he told me through a mouthful of S’mores. I nodded, licking the melted marshmallow off of my fingers.

“Yup,” We took all of the food inside, and then returned to the deck to curl up on a lounge chair together in front of the fire and overlooking the lake. Jordan’s fingertips softly stroked my arm, and I played with his hair as we sat there quietly.

“Do we have to go back tomorrow?” he asked, and I sighed.

“Jordan, you know how pissed Jared would be if we stayed out here the whole time,”

“I know, but I mean, he’d get over it eventually. I just… I love it being just us. I know you were only home for two weeks but I missed you a lot,” he told me, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

“I know, I missed you like crazy, even though we talked like everyday… it’s just not the same,” I agreed, leaning so I could press my cheek to his.

“I just don’t want to have to deal with Eric and I know he’ll try to make a big deal out of the whole thing,” he admitted, and I felt the familiar guilt in my stomach.

“Jordan, we can just tell him – it’s okay, the season’s done and I plan on telling people anyway,”

“Cam, he’s going to make a big deal out of it – I don’t want you telling him until you’ve publicly done whatever you’re going to do,” he insisted, which confused me. How could he suddenly not want me to tell his brother? I mean, when the season was still on I understood, even though I’d assured him several times it would be okay, but now it made no sense.

“Jordan, I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting,”

“It’s fine Cam,”

“No it’s not! How come you don’t want him to know?” I asked, and he sighed.

“Because if he tells somebody then all of a sudden it’s a big media scandal that you’re a girl. It will be a hell of a lot easier on you and your family if you come out with it yourself rather than people speculating and making up stories and reasons for you pretending to be a guy. I just want what’s best for you Cam,” he explained.

“And I want what’s best for you Jordy! And you fighting with your brother is not what’s best for you!” I burst, and then turned to stare at the fire, a little embarrassed with how emotional I was getting about this.

“Just… please? I just want this to be as easy for you as possible, and even then it’s going to be hellish for you. Just please, sweetheart? My family will understand why you didn’t tell them beforehand, so just please do it, for me?” he pleaded, his voice whisper soft. I nodded, and leaned into him again. He let out a sigh and tightened his grip on me, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek as we lapsed into silence again.

“So I guess we have to go back tomorrow then?” he asked, and I nodded again, not quite trusting my voice.

“Okay, I guess,” he sighed, and I could hear the hesitant hint of a grin playing at his lips.

“I promised Jared we’d have a movie night,” I reminded him, and then Jordan laughed.

“Right, I forgot about that.”